


How the Girls Can Turn to Ghosts Before Your Eyes

by theshipsfirstmate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen, R.I.P. Pretty Bird, post-4x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-4x18, Felicity gets dressed for the funeral. </p>
<p>“Really, the only person she’d want to hug today, is the one she definitively can’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Girls Can Turn to Ghosts Before Your Eyes

_Title from “[So Long, So Long](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DkE048CRjdfg&t=ZjkzZWQyYjc1OWVhZTBhMWNkYzA0NjU2ZTM3MjQ5OGVkNGQwNjkwMCxIMTVhU2FoaQ%3D%3D)” by Dashboard Confessional_

**How the Girls Can Turn to Ghosts Before Your Eyes**

On the morning of the funeral, Felicity thumbs through her closet for nearly an hour before picking out the black trench. When she slips it on, and tightens the belt, she realizes why it’s perfect.

It’s a sense memory, clear enough to almost be a hallucination. The night their jet from Nanda Parbat landed back in Starling, the flight manifest recording one fewer passenger than the plane had carried on the outgoing journey, Felicity had been despondent. She hadn’t known what to do with herself, where to go, watched helplessly as Thea bailed without a word and shook off Digg’s pitying offer. Some part of her desperately wanted to return to the lair and wrap herself in green leather, while a larger, more rational part knew that might be enough to make her fall completely apart.

That’s how she ended up in Laurel’s office, with maybe the most unlikely pair of arms wrapped around her, banded tightly to keep her from crumbling into nothing.

* * *

It could have been her mother, in the weeks after her father walked out on them. Nearly catatonic, and mostly unable to look her own daughter in the eye, Donna had been physically useless for several days and emotionally unavailable for even longer. It’s the deepest scar that still runs between them, that time when Felicity had needed her the most.

It could have been the first friend she worked up the courage to tell, four whole months later. “You’re lucky,” Leigh had scoffed, kicking at a piece of mulch on the playground and rolling her eyes. “My dad sucks, my mom always says she wishes he would leave.”

It could have been the awkward side hug her junior high English teacher had given her in the cereal aisle one evening when she was doing the month’s shopping. The kindly woman had tried not to let her face fall when she realized Felicity was at the grocery store alone, but it wasn’t like she was the drama teacher.

“You’re one tough cookie, aren’t you?” Felicity had nodded with a smile, choked down the acid in her throat that wanted to tell the woman the truth. She didn’t want to be tough, it’s just there was no one else to do it.

It could have been Myron, skulking around the dorm that night when Felicity came back to wash off the rest of her smudged makeup after they took Cooper away and hauled her in for a few hours of questioning.

She had never really liked her boyfriend’s roommate, but she never hated him more than that moment, when he could barely muster surprise at what had happened, let alone concern. “That’s what happens when you break the law.”

It could have been Moira Queen, standing like a marble statue in her own living room, letting Felicity know, in no uncertain terms, that she had her figured out. Somehow in the same breath, Oliver’s mother had also laid in her opinion that Felicity wasn’t good enough for him, she heard that message loud and clear. The warning that she had missed though, the one that still haunts her, was the one about keeping secrets.

It could have been Samantha, half-apologizing with a sad smile, trying to convince her that the world was still right side up.

* * *

That night in Laurel’s office could have been Oliver’s ex reminding Felicity that she wasn’t the only girl he’d ever loved and left. That she wasn’t the only one that lost him and thought she’d never get him back. Laurel could have been self-pitying, she could have been dismissive, she could have at least been bitter.

But it wasn’t any of those things. Instead, it was just a powerful embrace, so vital it kept Felicity on her feet when her sobs broke and her knees began to buckle. It was hushed assurances that did nothing to placate her, but did help to slow her breathing when she started to hyperventilate.

It was a ride home and a blanket on the couch and bad movies until sheer exhaustion forced her eyes to close. It was coffee every morning and a reason not to drink her sorrows away every night. It was a lesson in moving forward, in carrying on after being left behind, from someone who knew the feeling even better than Felicity. It was an emotional shorthand, so neither of them had to voice out loud the things they were too terrified to say.

* * *

Now it’s just a black trench coat, with a belt cinched around her waist. Felicity wore a coat like this to Moira’s funeral all those years ago, but this one is new, purchased last winter in a rare moment of acceptance, when she realized there might be another Queen family funeral to attend.

It’s what she’ll wear to bury one of her heroes, the symbol of losing one of the best friends she’s ever had. It’s got pockets she can jam her hands into, ball them up into fists and dig her nails into her palms every time she starts to blame herself for leaving the whole team behind when she walked away from Oliver. It’s the tourniquet she’ll tighten to keep herself from bleeding out in anguish.

It’s the knowledge that she’s going to hug maybe a dozen people today, and none of those moments will be as reassuring as that embrace in Laurel’s office a year ago. She’ll hug Lance with empathy for his broken heart, she’ll hug Digg to try and take on some of his guilt, even though her tank is almost full. She’ll hug Thea because they’re feeling some of the same hurt, she’ll hug Oliver even though it will rip her up inside. But none of those will do much for her.

Really, the only person she’d want to hug today, is the one she definitively can’t.


End file.
